Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction ❯ In the Dark Room ❯ Mariko Sue ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Neon Genesis Evangelion is a Studio Gainax production, its characters created by Hideaki Anno. They say the word, and this story ceases to exist.

 

 

In the Dark Room: Mariko Sue

 

By Midnight_Cereal

 

 

From her vantage point at her desk, Asuka Langley Sohryu contemplated how truly stupid boys were.

 

She ate her lunch of leftover spaghetti, peering outside at the males animatedly arguing about something, probably stupid, as they scarfed down their meals under the sun. The hot-ass sun. While many things had been altered or had entirely disappeared in the country since Third Impact, Japan's endless summer had remained. Scorching sun continued to give way to persistent showers, which gave way to blistering heat, which gave way to relentless deluge.

 

Shinji was out there somewhere, and she just knew he and the other guys would come in smelling like shrimp bento and hot road kill. Yum.

 

“Hrm…that must be really good to say that out loud,” said a light voice behind her. When Asuka turned, Mariko was already beginning to straddle a seat and pony up to the red-head's desk. “I guess if you're still in here, then you got my message?”

 

Asuka nodded as she chewed some noodles and made eye contact with the girl when she finally swallowed. “I got it. I would've been in here anyway, though. It's like a sauna out there…without the hot rocks and women in towels giving you strange looks.”

 

Mariko leaned forward on her crossed forearms as she gave a small laugh. “Yeah, they'll probably come in smelling like road kill or something.” Asuka grinned broadly at that as she poked at the last of her spaghetti.

 

“What?” Mariko asked.

 

The German girl just shook her head. “Nothing…did I really say `Yum' out loud?”

 

“Like it was your last meal. But forget about it.” She raked one hand through her messy hair while the other waved dismissively at Asuka. “I do all kinds of weird stuff when I don't think anyone's around. I did kinda sneak up on you.”

 

Asuka nodded once more as she closed the empty plastic container. Mariko seemed nice enough, but it was time to cut to the obligatory chase. “Why'd you wanna talk?” she asked. When the other girl looked slightly perplexed, Asuka sighed and elaborated. “You're message said, `Asuka, I want to talk in the classroom at lunch', signed `shutterbug'. You're `shutterbug', right? You said you were a photographer.”

 

“Oh…” Mariko gracefully responded, “Oh, I…no…it was nothing in particular. It's just that we're gonna be seeing a lot of each other.” She was silent for a moment, her green eyes hidden beneath long bangs as she found something interesting on her shoe. She took a small breath before she spoke again.

 

“I've heard a lot about you, and Shinji, and now…I finally get to meet you guys in person. I just wanted to be the one to make the first impression, you know? That's all. I hate it when I meet someone, and they think they know me because somebody else had already told them about me.” Mariko looked up again, her eyes soft. “I was just thinking…in our line of work, we have to be able to trust each other, you know?”

 

Trying very hard not to feel like an ass, Asuka exhaled and relaxed in her chair. “Okay…alright. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. You just have to know I'm not the…trusting type.” Mariko gave a small bob of her head as she pulled the short right sleeve of her white top past her thin arm and over her round shoulder.

 

“Look…Mariko? It's Mariko, right?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Look, Mariko, if you ask me, you don't have to take this piloting job too seriously,” Asuka said easily, “Not now, at least. The Angels? They're gone. We only have one Eva between the three of us. We haven't done anything except perform boring synch tests and run battle simulations for the last two years, almost. So this `trust your fellow soldier' thing is a few days late.”

 

“I figured that. But I still think I had to talk to you now. I want you guys to like me.”

 

“We do like you,” Asuka assured her, internally blanching not only at Mariko's shameless honesty, but her own. “Well, I like you.”

 

“Shinji told you he doesn't like me??” Mariko immediately asked as dread crept into her anxious voice.

 

Asuka rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Shinji likes anyone who doesn't immediately punch him in the face.”

 

“Oh…well that's good, then,” Mariko paused, “I think.”

 

“It is good,” the shorter girl confirmed, “and consider this a good first impression…” she grinned, “Sixth Child.”

 

Moments later, class 3-B trickled back into its homeroom. The guy Asuka sat next to reclaimed his chair, a sheen of sweat covering his hands and face. Her nose wrinkled when noon-day city funk rolled off the boy in thick waves.

 

“Yum.” Mariko said absentmindedly from her seat next to Shinji, and Asuka could not help but laugh.

 

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“Hey, Shinji, this place we're going to, it sells those spicy rice cracker things, right?” Asuka inquired as she set her kiosk to sleep mode.

 

“Yes, Asuka.” He was also shutting down his terminal for the day, class 3-B filtering out of the hot room.

 

“Let's get some soda, too. I had the rest of that vegetable juice, there's nothing to drink at home.”

 

Shinji looked momentarily incredulous. “You drank my Itoen?” he asked, “but you don't even like vegetable juice!”

 

“And some coffee,” she continued, oblivious to her roommate's whining. His shoulders slumped slightly as he slung his satchel over his shoulder and shoved his history text past the open flap.

 

“I…okay, Asuka.”

 

“Mocha blend.” They stepped through the threshold into the emptying hallway.

 

“Okay, Asuka.”

 

“Let's get some pork-filled buns too.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Pork-filled, not bean-filled.”

 

“Okay, Asuka.”

 

“Those beans just do something to you, Shinji. Horrible things. I couldn't sit within twenty feet of you last time we had them. You hear me Shinji? Niku-man or nothing!” She paid little mind to the underclassmen loitering near the exit stairwell, their bodies wracked with stifled giggles.

 

“Okay, Asuka,” he said ahead of her, his voice calm as he bounded down to the first floor two, four steps at a time. Raucous laughter echoed down to them.

 

“Oh! Pizza bread! Get some of that!”

 

“Okay, Asuka.” They were outside now, eyes adjusting to the light.

 

“To make udon, you need some flour noodles, right? And some brown rice.”

 

“Okay, Asuka.”

 

“Eggs.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And some chicken.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Dark meat.”

 

“Okay, Asuka.”

 

“We need some rice, too.”

 

“What the he-…okay, Asuka.”

 

“Don't forget the milk, Shinji.”

 

“Okay, As-…” he stopped when he realized that his horrible, horrible coworker wasn't the one who had suggested the last item. He followed Asuka's blue eyes until he too was looking at Mariko, the new girl rising from a plastic bench just inside New Hakone High school's front entrance.

 

“You were waiting for us?” Asuka asked as she and Shinji walked towards Mariko, already knowing the answer. Of course she was. She's new here, she's a pilot, she's going to want to know about us. To an extent. She'll want us to know about her. To an extent. She's a pilot.

 

Mariko made a noise of confirmation and fell in step with the veterans. “It's hot out here, but I just needed to move around some. I can't stay in one place too long before I start getting anxious.”

 

“Then I can tell you're going to love Nerv,” said Asuka, her tone suggesting that by love, she meant rather scoop your eyes out with a rusty spork than sit through another round of psychograph evaluations. “So you're excitable, huh? For a second there I thought we had ourselves a Mary Sue.”

 

The new girl blinked. “A what?”

 

Asuka shook her head. “Never mind.”

 

The taller young woman scratched the back of her head and gave a resigned smile. “Yeah, I don't know what I'm going to do for synch tests. I asked Dr. Ibuki if I could listen to my SDAT in the tube.”

 

“You've talked to Maya already?” Shinji asked as his eyebrows lifted.

 

“Yeah, plenty of times, actually. She said I couldn't bring it in because the one I have isn't LCL-proof, and I didn't understand a lot of what she told me, but I think the basic idea was that I'm supposed to concentrate.”

 

Asuka nodded in confirmation, of both the need to focus and that the girl would've already spoken extensively to Nerv before even arriving in Tokyo-3. Hell, Asuka had known Misato since when she was ten, Kaji when she was eight, back when she was nothing but a short-tempered, loud-mouthed, yet brilliant German braggart. But I'm much different today, she reflected, Now I'm tall.

 

“I'm not too worried, though,” Mariko continued as they walked out through New Hakone's front entrance, “I'm pretty good at adjusting to things, even if they're difficult. Heh, I mean…” she gave a short chuckle, “I mean, it's not like I'm going to be fighting Angels the first moment I get in the entry plug, you know?”

 

Mariko's playful expression diffused a bit when Shinji's neutral face had sculpted a tight smile, his eyes downcast. Perhaps sensing the need for a change of subject to ease the sudden tension, she licked her lips before saying, “So…um…we going home after groceries or what?”

 

Ha ha.

 

Ho ho ho ho.

 

What?

 

“What?” Asuka numbly asked, echoing her internal monologue.

 

The other girl hesitated to speak, then took a small breath. “Well…last night I had stayed in one of the quarters they had at Nerv. There wasn't much of a point in me calling you guys yesterday or last night, anyway. Even though I don't have a lot of stuff, what I do have won't be here until tomorrow.” She paused and returned Asuka's stare. “I didn't think this was new info…I would've thought the doctor would tell you something like that.”

 

Like a bullwhip Asuka's eyes went to Shinji, glaring poison daggers.

 

“What're you looking at me for??” he said hurriedly. “Maya only told me a new pilot was coming, she didn't tell me she was going to be living with us!”

 

Mariko's voice was small behind Asuka as she spoke. “Um…oh. I'm sorry…this isn't going to be a problem, is it? Because if it is-“

 

Asuka swiveled back to look at the girl, her face gentler but still at a loss for suitable words. “I-”

 

“It won't be a problem.” Shinji's hand softly clasped Asuka's shoulder and his voice filled with genuine warmth. “We'd love for you to stay. There's an extra room in our place that's begging to be filled.”

 

Against her considerable will, Asuka's eyes widened.

 

Mariko seemed not to notice and wore a grateful expression…which became panicked as she audibly gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “My bags are still in the class!” She began drifting towards the school. “All my books and clothes and my camera…”

 

“The room should still be open. Go ahead and get it,” Shinji said behind the Second Child. “We'll be right here.” His grasp tightened ever so slightly as Asuka bit her lower lip and watched Mariko's retreating form close in on the school entrance with surprising speed.

 

“Wow, she's pretty fast.”

 

The Second Child clenched her jaw and fought to extinguish the burning indignation in her throat as Shinji tracked their new roommate's tall, lithe, sinuous form…

 

Failing miserably, she drove the hard sole of her shoe into the boy' shin.

 

“You know what the weird thing is?” he asked as he rubbed his bruised leg. “You handled that better than I thought you would.”

 

“Shut. Up.” She had yet to turn around to face Shinji, experimenting with facial expressions until she found one that matched her rotten mood. Asuka found it, whirled and unleashed it. “You're handling this well yourself,” she paused, smiling, “harem boy.”

 

“Harem boy?” he repeated, tasting the phrase like sour milk.

 

“It suits you, Shinji. I should've seen it before, but I ignored it, because I just couldn't understand how any girl regularly taking her meds would see anything in you.” She slowly stepped closer to him for effect. “I still don't understand. All I know is what I see in front of my face, and it's written all over yours that you can't wait to get your pervy hands on her!”

 

“Asuka, she's not going to stay at Nerv when we have an extra room where we live.” He looked her in the eyes. “You can't tell me that you'd have her stay at that place. I don't think you're that selfish a person, Asuka.”

 

“I think I know what kind of person I am, Shinji, just like I know what kind of person you are. You're the selfish one.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and frowned mightily. “I saw how you looked at her butt when she was running back.”

 

He looked exasperated. Good. “Asuka, no I wasn't-”

 

“Yes. You were,” she intoned as her eyes dangerously narrowed, “you ass-craving scum.”

 

“I do not crave ass,” he shot back, his face weathered by equal parts indignation and disbelief that he actually had to say I do not crave ass. “Besides, how would you know where I was looking? You were looking at her the whole time, too. And you make it sound like I'm some gigolo. Give me a break, Asuka, there isn't one person that's shown interest in me since I've mov-”

 

“Mana.”

 

“-ed here. I…” He sighed. “Okay. Mana. So I was liked by one person, but one person hardly makes a ha-”

 

“Mayumi.”

 

“-rem. Look, two people don't…” he closed his eyes and sighed. She could have sworn he had just said a prayer. Ha. Shinji Ikari. Praying to God. “Asuka, you can't tell me this isn't the right thing to do. You can't tell me you know me better than I know myself, either.”

 

He opened his eyes calmly as a warm breeze slid past them in the school yard. Asuka did well to swallow the breath that caught in her throat as their eyes met.

 

“C'mon, Asuka. Give her a chance before you make her some enemy of yours. You'll finally have someone to talk to about…girly things with.”

 

“I already live with one, you bony fruit.” He smiled at that for some reason; he wasn't taking this seriously, anymore.

 

She became silent as she thought of the right thing to say, and considering her options, promptly blurted out the worst thing possible.

 

“So you're giving away her room? Just like that? Misato wouldn't have wanted-“

 

He changed.

 

“How do you know what Misato wanted?”

 

Without warning, a new voice inhabited Shinji, and it was a cold, smoldering deflagration fueled by complacency and compassion. The outside world fell away as Asuka looked for these things in his hard face, coming away only with the jarring realization that she had seen and heard this somewhere from someone before…

 

Oh no. She suddenly knew she had to say something, come up with anything. Anything, it didn't matter, so long as this…thing left the boy she knew and returned to the prison she had fashioned for it a thousand memories ago. When did this happen? How?

 

Failing miserably, pre-packaged thoughts stumbled clumsily off Asuka's dry tongue before she finally uttered something intelligible. “Shinji, that's not what I-”

 

He cut her off, his voice slicing through her soft words. “Save it. You can pretend like you're against this for Mariko's sake, but don't drag Misato into this. That is not the reason you don't want her with us.”

 

All he needs are the glasses, the beard, the gloves…Who the hell are you?

 

The sound of a door opening drew her attention and she saw Mariko with her school bag in one hand and another bigger one she readjusted across her body. Grateful that her two new roommates kept their promise and stayed put, she enthusiastically waved. Grateful for having a reason to ignore the boy's baleful, steadfast glare, Asuka waved back.

 

Without looking, she already knew that everything on his face that stripped her of righteous anger and replaced it with an entirely new despair would be gone. Shinji Ikari as she knew him would return, and when not keeping to himself would complain and whine and apologize in a most pathetic manner, just as he had when she had first met him on the windy deck of the Over the Rainbow all that time ago. As they trekked to the grocery store, Asuka wondered, for the first time, if that boy had truly survived Third Impact.

 

 

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They bought spicy rice crackers. They bought soda, vegetable juice and coffee. Mocha blend. They bought pork-filled buns, and flour noodles. They bought brown rice, eggs, some chicken legs and some rice. And finally milk. And in the end, they were all outwardly thankful for living in a country with efficient, punctual, and expedient public transportation.

 

“That rice was heavy,” Shinji quietly declared, kneeling at the coffee table in front of the TV.

 

Asuka knelt at the table's opposite side and nodded a reply as her mind was divided into a number of parallel thought processes warring for attention. One was devoted to the noisy game show in front of her, which was currently making as much sense as a girl with blue hair and red eyes. Damn doll.

 

The second was on their new roommate, coworker and classmate, who had excused herself after their carryout dinner for some sightseeing before the light disappeared over the city's rolling mountains.

 

The third was on Maya Ibuki, whose behavior, now that Asuka had reason to put thought to it, had gradually become rather eccentric. Eccentric was good for washed-up B-list celebrities and rebel billionaire grandfathers that built absurdly perilous and understaffed theme parks miles from civilization.

 

Eccentric was not good for the most powerful woman in an organization teetering on the edge of oblivion with every decision she did or did not make. Neither was it good for the person that was named their legal guardian after Misato had passed. And in the light of the fact that both Asuka and Shinji were charging full steam into adulthood, the German teen was thankful that Maya's guardianship consisted of no more than filing paper work and endorsing their weekly stipends. Shinji was right when he insisted Dr. Ibuki had no particular dislike of her. It was deeper than that, and it was something Asuka had chosen to ignore until it directly affected her, yesterday and today.

 

Something about Maya was…off. The Project E technician Lieutenant Maya Ibuki had diligently, efficiently, and above all, reliably built an enviable reputation behind Ritsuko Akagi. The woman's competency, her metronome consistency, were uncanny for a…how old was she then? Twenty-three? Twenty-four years old?

 

At the time, there were a plethora of reasons for Asuka to have taken her for granted, as Nerv command had, during the most crucial battle since literally the dawn of man. The old supreme commander and sub-commander had routinely handed the keys of the most powerful computers in the world over to a bridge bunny hardly a year out of college. As much work that young woman had seemed to put into justifying that trust, the Project E Chairwoman Dr. Maya Ibuki had seemed to put just as much work into destroying it.

 

Asuka immediately rattled off eight mandatory staff meetings their guardian had missed in the last year alone. Maya had no discernable hours at Nerv headquarters, and you were just as likely to catch her there as you were not. Sometimes she would arrive inexplicably disheveled, or visibly tired after leaving work a full day earlier. Sometimes you would have a conversation with her, and she would fail to finish a thought, randomly leaping from one topic to another to yet another, all completely unrelated.

 

Synch tests would on occasion keep the Children at Central Dogma late into the night; Nerv's labyrinthine, sterile hallways were soundless but for the incessant buzz of phosphorus lights and the muffled sobs in the office of the Project E Chairwoman. If you looked carefully enough you could glimpse a form between the blinds pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, then stopping, crouching and rising, then repeating the bizarre ritual over and over again…

 

Asuka Langley Sohryu's experiences had taught her -with relentless, excruciating regularity- that people inevitably change when presented with a situation that forces them to question what they are. For a very long time, Asuka was certain that change always did far more harm than good.

 

It doesn't have to be that way, she thought as she languidly glanced at the boy sitting across from her, and just because Maya changed for the worse doesn't mean she can't change again. It doesn't have…to be…

 

“Stop that,” she said suddenly, her words to Shinji shaking him out of his own reverie.

 

“Wuh? Stop what?”

 

“This...” and she demonstrated by propping her elbows on the table and moving her steepled fingers in front of her mouth, while setting her face with a dead-eye gaze and morose scowl.

 

“Oh.” He unlocked his fingers and his eyes followed his hands into his lap. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's okay. You just look…don't worry about it. It's okay.”

 

“Not just that…about today, too. I didn't mean to scare you.”

 

If the boy had looked up to read her face, it was unknown to the girl, who had turned back to the television and resigned herself to the talk she knew was coming. “I know you didn't, Shinji.” She rested her eyes, suddenly heavy. “You didn't scare me.”

 

“I didn't mean to imply that you didn't care for Misato, Asuka. I know you did. But when I talked to Mariko at school, I thought about her, being one of us. What if she's like us? What if she's had it rough like us?”

 

“You're saying the she's got more baggage than the dealer room at a hobo convention, and that if she lives here we can share the load?” She shook her head no to the image of the Shinji in Asuka's mind nodding yes. “You can't assume that she wants help. Even if she did, it's not just something you force on people. You can't even assume she needs help. She seems perfectly fine to me.”

 

“I think we all look perfectly fine-”

 

“Besides,” she interjected before he could finish his point, “Rei lived by herself and she turned out…” She stopped and irritably sucked her teeth as she realized she had just designed, proposed, financed, built, operated, optimized, and then finally walked into her own big fat trap.

 

“There were a lot of things about her that I couldn't do anything about.” Shinji said. “Rei was trapped. I honestly think she was born to be sacrificed. She never had a chance to get out. Not like we did. But…that was all the more reason to help her, wasn't it?”

 

Asuka said nothing as she stared at and through their set, her shoulders rising as she slowly took in air.

 

“She must've felt so…alone. In that little dirty apartment. Nobody should have to go through what we did alone. As much pain as we went through, we never had to do it by ourselves. We just weren't strong enough.”

 

His voice carried again after a silent second, forged with a gentle but firm determination. “But we are now, Asuka. I'll bet Mariko has her own demons, just like us. And if she's here with us, we can be strong for her, too.” His hand was on hers, reaching out over the lacquered wood to curl over her own palm. “The easiest way to do that is to let her stay here.”

 

“I know that,” she said.

 

“Thank you.”

 

His hand was still on hers, and she did not move away. In the minutes that followed she remained facing away from him, and presumably he was looking over her shoulder at the television when she heard commotion at the foyer.

 

Mariko grinned from the entrance of the room, her camera clutched in her fingers. “This…is the most beautiful place I've ever been,” she proclaimed before plopping down on the sofa across from Asuka. “I'm not even exaggerating. I took like sixty pictures. I could've looked out over that crater all night.”

 

The red-head favored her with a small but genuine smile. “Yeah, I can see why you think it's pretty. But you probably wouldn't feel that way if you were here when it was made.”

 

The short-haired teenager glanced up inquisitively before continuing to rifle through her digital exposures. “Bad moment, huh?”

 

“It was a whole lot of bad moments, strung together over the course of the day. Never mind, though.” Asuka scooted over to look at Mariko's plasma display. “You already met Ms. Asai?”

 

“As I was coming off the elevator when I left. She said she has a dog. You're allowed to have pets here?”

 

“No.” Asuka shook her head as images replaced one another, their neighbor in question, the path at Ueno Park, three shots of the left side, the center, and the right side of the crater (to be amalgamated later), and people, dozens, students and salary men and tourists, all smiling and flashing victory signs, seemingly happy to pose for a total stranger. Asuka shrugged. “No one is gonna say anything to her about it, though. This place is only about half full anyway, and half of those people work at Nerv.”

 

At that, the black-haired pilot turned off her camera and looked at Asuka as Shinji stood from his place at the table. “Maybe I should ask to be moved into one of those empty blocs, then?”

 

When the boy disappeared into the bathroom the Second Child tore her eyes from him and had them meet Mariko's. “No. We don't want that.”

 

“Are you sure, Asuka? I mean, I don't want to get in your and Shinji's way or anything, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I…wait, no I don't know,” said Asuka, trying hard not to look unpleasant, “What do you mean `get in our way'?”

 

Asuka could see the other girl mulling over her last words, and the words she would speak next. “I was just guessing that you like being around him…am I wrong?”

 

Ohhhhhhhh. Crap. The seasoned pilot rubbed her forehead with a raised palm, ignoring the dull stabbing ache deep in her left eye socket. Oh, what the hell…

 

“No, you're not. Yeah, I do like being around him.”

 

“I don't mean to pry-”

 

“Yes you do.” Asuka put her hand back down on her thigh as she immediately replied. “But that's alright. It isn't like I can deny it or anything. And he may not look it, but he is good for some things.”

 

“Oh, I'm sure he's good for all sorts of things, you know?” Mariko grinned devilishly, voice dripping with an innuendo that suggested she was not talking about his ability to make a mean rice pudding, although rice pudding may occasionally be involved. Her face fell when she noticed her counterpart's, currently doing everything but smiling.

 

“Oh…” Mariko quietly espoused, “I just thought that you two living here for all this time-”

 

“No. We're not,” Asuka stated, unable to hide her irritation or justify to herself why she had a right to be angry at Mariko. Had she not just unequivocally stated it was okay for the girl to pry? Wasn't it stranger that she and Shinji weren't spending the night in each other's room after living together for three years? Wasn't Yukie traveling literally halfway around the city to get laid? How long had she been seeing her boyfriend?

 

But Shinji's not my boyfriend.

 

By now her new roommate was holding her hands up defensively and back tracking at full speed, but Asuka waved her off, allowing herself Mariko a moment to relax. “Don't worry, Mariko. We're not serious.” Asuka snorted. “We're not anything, really.”

 

“So…I don't have to worry about you two digging wedgies outta each other's butts, or anything like that?”

 

The Second Child just shook her head full of auburn hair. “Shinji didn't survive that mess just to have me kill him for goosing my backside.”

 

Seemingly beckoned by the indirect death threat, the Third Child emerged from the bathroom.

 

“You mind if I go in before you, Asuka?” Mariko asked, already rising from her seat as the other young woman extended her appendages and stretched her lean muscles, giving a head shake while yawning expansively.

 

As Mariko disappeared into the hallway Shinji replaced her, moving to the refrigerator. Asuka wordlessly joined him as she retrieved a cup and brushed past the young man to grab the Caplico cola.

 

“How can you ever get to sleep after drinking all that sugar?” he asked as he poured some orange juice for himself.

 

“I think about all the things you're good for, Shinji. And I pass out.” She downed the drink in a long gulp.

 

“It's been a while since the fridge has been this full-”

 

“Oh give it a rest, Third!” she yelled, slamming her empty cup on the counter and pointing a finger at him. “I'll be damned I if ever let you dig a wedgie out of my ass!” And with a dignified humph and a stiff back, she pivoted on her heel and stormed to her room.

 

The kitchenette was quiet for a moment, and then Shinji poured some Caplico into Asuka's cup and took a small sip.

 

“It…tastes fine…”

 

 

End of Mariko Sue

A/N: Okay. I think this needs to be said. It is quite understandable from they way chapter one ended, and from passages in this chapter to fear an insertion of DJ-Croftian proportions. Let me assure all readers, right now, that is not the reason this character -Mariko- was created. I would think that would be evident from the title of this chapter, and if it isn't…well…now it is (thank you, dennisud).

 

This is not an Asuka/Shinji story.

 

This is not a Mariko/Shinji story.

 

This is not a Maya/Shinji story.

 

This is not an Asuka/Mariko story. Well…maybe if we…no. No, it's not.

 

This is not a [young sexy anime icon/ other sexy anime icon] story of any kind.

 

It is not shonen-ai or shoujo-ai.

 

The only ACC I was thinking about as I was writing In the Dark Room was the NCAA Division 1-A league, in which my beloved Terps battled (and this year, mostly lost to) Duke, UNC, N.C. State, and Virginia on a weekly basis.

 

It's not a pro-Asuka story, and the conspicuous absence of one blue-haired, red-eyed female Angel hybrid does not an anti-Rei story make.

 

It is a story. Nothing more. Nothing less. This does not mean that In the Dark Room will not, at one point or another, include elements of the above. I can say with complete honesty that when I began writing, I didn't add this character or that, or any original character for the sole purpose of mating them like Shitzu. They only show up if they are essential to the story. Inclusion will never, ever be based on my personal distaste for the character.

 

 

Acknowledgement: Let it never be said that I do not give credit where credit is due. The Internet Movie Database is, as you are likely aware, an obscenely exhaustive encyclopedia of movie production information, film trivia, memorable quotes, and, if you've ever visited its message boards, home to world-class pissing contests.

 

In a valiant attempt to show that arguing on the internet is about as productive as having a breathing contest in outer space, a few passionate posters argued about the of integrity of Quentin Tarantino's work; it took approximately six minutes for the…discussion…to degenerate into a battle to prove who was less heterosexual. At one point, one poster called another “ass-craving scum.” Should I be concerned that something like that made me laugh? Anyway, I ended up putting those words in Asuka's mouth, and I have Kiriyama 187 to thank for it. Thank you, kind sir, wherever you are.

 

Remember this from chapter one?

 

“Hopefully, I can do something with the New Pilotangle that hasn't already been beaten to death with the stick of familiarity.”

 

I've decided to retract this statement, as it makes me sound like a pompous ass...BECAUSE THERE ARE NO ORIGINAL NEW PILOT STORIES. I LIKE WRITING IN CAPITALS. Though I believe I've steered clear of obvious ACC pitfalls, it's better to scale myself down a bit, just in case I don't blow your damn mind. With that, I'm gonna find a two-by-four with a nail in it and a Palomino carcass. Thank you for reading and for your criticism. Ja.

 

Random A/N: “If you can think of something interesting to talk about, IM me. Or IM me anyway. That way, we can pretend that we have something to talk about, and then realize that we actually don't. Either way, I'm gonna be eating Carolina Sausages. And isn't that what America's all about? Carolina Sausages? If you don't think so, IM me; I'm pretty sure I can convince you that they are what America is all about. Or to throw yourself in front of a bus. Either way, I'm gonna be eating Carolina Sausages. And isn't that what America's all about? Throwing yourself in front of a bus?”

 

-Anona…Anonom….Anonyma…Some Guy That Smelled Like Cardboard

 

 

Next Chapter: Focus